Regrets for the Road Never Walked
by Silence Shall Fall
Summary: Her life was full of nevers.  Because he was her life.  With him gone, she was only a shadow.  A puppet with no strings.  A singer who had lost her voice.  A fire with no air.  And soon enough, she would go out like a candle.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know. Repost on a new account... I'm switching fully over to this one.

_**Blood.**_

_**It was everywhere.**_

_**All over her.**_

_**Her hands. Her shirt. Her pants.**_

_**His blood.**_

_**It was his blood that coated her.**_

She could feel the silent tears as they trekked down her cheeks, the one thought rebounding through her mind.

_**His blood.**_

Her mind was her worst enemy.

_Fire was all around her. Clogging up her throat and making her eyes water and burn. _

_The smell of burning flesh and singed hair reached her nose. Vaguely, she realised it was coming from her._

_But that didn't matter. _

He _was in there._

_She kicked open the door, ashes and burning bits of wood falling on her skin._

_"Booth!" she screamed, her voice hoarse._

_The fire crackled, dancing and twisting around her. _

_"Booth!" she cried again, hoping for an answer._

_Her foot caught on something and she tripped. Her left palm rested on a piece of a charred chair. The white pain forced a tear out of her eyes, evaporating quickly in the heat._

_She turned to release her foot from whatever was on the ground._

_It was all blackened... and burnt... and bloody._

_But it was him._

_"Booth," she crawled to him, cradling his head in her lap, the gash along his hairline still oozing crimson liquid excessively._

_"We've got to get out of here," she told him._

_She gripped his arm at tightly as should could without causing him pain, she hoped at least, that it wasn't causing him pain._

_There was a hiss of air, and then blackness. _

She shuttered, pressing a hand to her mouth in a futile effort to stop the impeding wave of sobs that always followed the nightmare.

Every night for the past 3 years she had nightmares.

Nightmares about him.

She couldn't save him.

She never did.

She tried to brush the tears from her eye.

Her hand traveled across the ripped and ruined side of her face. Scars.

The firefighters. They had found her, clutching his body weakly.

2nd and 3rd degree burns covered almost 50 percent of her body.

His was burned beyond recognition.

Or so she had been told.

There was an explosion.

The shrapnel had sliced the right of her face open, leaving the left side intact.

The spider web of thin scars soon melded together as she allowed her finger to travel down to her neck.

And she hadn't even saved him.

This was her reminder.

Everyday she had to look into the mirror and see herself.

Ugly.

Ruined.

Stained.

Worn.

Shattered.

Broken.

_Lost_.

There was no hope for her anymore.

Her light at the end of the tunnel had gone out 3 years ago.

When he died.

There was no hope.

He didn't feel much pain.

He was probably dead before you got to him.

So she had been told.

But there was hope.

It was her.

And then he died.

A part of her had died with him.

His God was supposed to protect him.

That should have been _her _in the fire.

Not him.

Her.

But he was dead.

She wasn't.

It was so simple.

And yet, it wasn't.

She had never told him.

Never would be able to tell him.

3 words.

And she couldn't say them.

Not anymore.

3 syllables.

They would never pass the scarred lips.

Never.

A word that she had become so use to.

Never would she laugh with him.

Never would they share Thai food again.

Never would they solve another case.

Her life was full of nevers.

Because he was her life.

With him gone, she was only a shadow.

A puppet with no strings.

A singer who had lost her voice.

A fire with no air.

And soon enough, she would go out like a candle.

Gone.

Forever.

Maybe she would see him.

She _hoped_ so.

Maybe then she could tell him those 3 words.

_I love you._

Maybe someday.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: All of the chapters to this story, four of them, are already written. I guess I didn't really make it clear that the previous chapter was not a one-shot... If that's what you thought, well, surprise! Anyways, I will update _Regrets _on the weekends. This time is special because I'm sick and I didn't have anything else to do. **

**Answer to reviewer (on the off chance you return):**

**WouldntYouLikeToKnow: Yes, she does have feelings, but she **compartmentalise**s so that she doesn't have to show feeling, or, in her mind, weakness. And thanks, for the review and your opinion of my story. ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Memories, that's by Within Temptation...**

* * *

><p><em>In this world you tried Not leaving me alone behind.<em>

_ There's no other way,_

_ I'll pray to the gods: let him stay._

"Sweetie?"

Her brow furrowed; that wasn't the nickname she yearned for.

"Bren?"

"Yes?" Even though she didn't work at the Jeffersonian anymore, she kept contact with Angela, Hodgins, and Cam. She tried to keep the contact with Sweets to a minimum, though; he still shrinked her.

"Are you coming with us?"

No, she didn't want to. But... Angela sounded so hopeful.

"Yes, Angela, I will," she sighed.

"Thank you!" her friend said, breathless with relief.

She changed into a black skirt and black blouse, Booth deserved some respect at least.

_All of my memories __keep you near,_

_ In silent moments._

_ Imagine you'd be here._

_ All of my memorieskeep you near._

_ The silent whispers, silent tears._

She hated this cemetery; it had now claimed two of ones she loved. Booth and her mother.

Life was cruel.

She accepted the truth; even though sometimes it was brutal, you could always believe it.

A group of mourners passed by their own group. A small boy, holding onto the hand of his mother, brushed by, accidentally hitting her in the side. The boy looked up at her for a moment, his eyes, a bright blue, filled with sadness and understanding, quickly morphed into a mixture of something akin to horror and pity. "Sorry," he murmured quietly, putting down his head again and continuing on.

She walked on in silence until she had reached the right headstone. She leaned down a set a small bouquet of daisies on the ground.

_"I never understood the idea of bringing flowers." They stand alone in front of a grave. Her mother's grave._

_He hands her a bouquet. "Just for once, Bones, do what people do. 'Kay? See how it feels. That's it. I'm going to go stand over here, while you talk to your Mom."_

_"I told you, I don't do that," she gives him a skeptic look._

_He heads off, leaving her standing alone in front of her mother's grave. _

_"Mom, it's me. Temperance. I have questions, but you can't answer them. No offense, but I don't think there's anything here of you but your bones, so…" She sighs and says quietly,"Can't believe I'm doing this," she pauses for a heartbeat before continuing, "Is Dad a good man or…a bad man? He had someone killed. Had him murdered and…what's the truth? Do I…do I keep looking, or do I let it go like he asked? Who's he protecting? Himself? Or me, and Russ?" She falls silent and turns to look doubtfully at her partner._

_"Booth? I asked the questions and guess what? No answer."_

_"Well, maybe if you weren't standing right on top of her, took a step to the left, and showed just a little respect. Sometimes it takes a while to get an answer, okay? Just leave the flowers," he smiles and places his hand on the small of her back after she places the flowers on her mother's grave._

"He was right you know... at least I believe he was," she whispered.

As usual, her mother's grave never responded.

With a bittersweet smile; a smile that only pulled up one side of the pink lips, the other side pulled down into a permanent grimace, she walked away from the mound of dirt.

As she left, a small breeze played with her loose chestnut-red hair, tugging at her skirt.

She hugged her arms to her chest, cradling the roses, even though the twilight air was comfortably warm, she still felt a shiver rack through her body.

Ahead of her, everyone gathered around his grave.

_Made me promise I'd try, to find my way back in this life._

_ I hope there is a way, to give me a sign you're okay._

_ Reminds me again, it's worth it all._

_ So I can go home._

Cam had her hand over her mouth, finger and thumb pinching the bridge of her

nose as she silently shook every once and a while.

Angela clenched her husbands arm as Hodgins tried to remain stoic.

Rebecca stood with Parker, eyes red and puffy.

Parker.

While she had lost her partner, he had lost his father.

The small boy clung to his mother's waist, crying and shaking.

"We miss you, Booth." Cam spoke first, sounded nasally because of her crying.

"Yeah, we miss you," Hodgins said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"How's heaven, big guy?" Angela asked. "I hope you're having fun..."

"Daddy, why'd you have to go?" sniffed Parker, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand.

He always asked that. Nobody ever had an answer for him.

_All of my memories keep you near,_

_ In silent moments._

_ Imagine you'd be here._

_ All of my memories keep you near._

_ The silent whispers, silent tears._

She stayed quiet, waiting to be last to put her roses for him with everyone elses.

Angela gave her friend a tight hug and opened her mouth, as if to say something encouraging.

She turned dead eyes to the artist, mouth in a tight light.

"I'm sorry," Angela said instead.

"Bones?"

She almost cried. _Almost_ cried.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asked, forcing the words around the lump in her throat.

Big brown eyes that looked almost exactly like his fathers, stared up at her.

"Daddy loved you, you know that?" he asked.

He had rarely talked to her since he died; in her mind she thought that he blamed her for his death.

She couldn't save him.

_Together in all these memories, I see your smile._

_ All the memories I hold dear, Darling you know,_

_ I love you till the end of time._

And 3 years later, it still came back to that.

"Yes, Parker, I did."

"Dad always said you had to tell the people you loved that you love them," he said, bravely fighting back fresh tears.

"I know." She crouched and pulled the small boy into her arms.

"I want you to know that I love you, Bones," the words were muffled, Parker had buried his head into her shoulder.

The dam broke and hot tears fell.

"Don't cry, Bones," he wiped the tears away with his shirt. "I didn't want to make you sad," he fretted.

"They're happy tears," she reassured him.

"Alright," he gave her a last hug and ran to his mother.

A slight drizzle of rain began to come down as dark gray storm clouds rolled overhead, reflecting her mood.

In moments, the rain had increased and she was soaked.

She saw her friends sprint towards their car; Angela glanced back for a moment, searching for her.

She looked away and stared at the flowers and the grave.

"I miss you," she whispered, upturning her face to the rain.

The heavens rumbled in response.

At least she though it was a response...

_Hoped_ it was response...

_All of my memories keep you near,_

_ In silent moments._

_ Imagine you'd be here._

_ All of my memories Keep you near._

_ The silent whispers, silent tears._

**A/N: Well... what did you think? Let me know? Only 2 more chapters to go! I really would love reviews, but story alerts/favourites always make me feel warm and fuzzy inside! **

**On a side note, sorry if I made you cry...**

**Leave a contribution in the little box!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the really late update! My computer got a really bad virus and I couldnt get the files... When I did... There was no internet. I know, excuses, excuses! Sorry... And this is in Sweets PoV. :D**

It had been years since Booth had died. In some ways, I believe Dr. Brennan has moved on with some aspects of her life. Still, there remains a hollow, almost haunted, look deep in her eyes.

She returned to the Jeffersonian, taking back her old job as a Forensic Anthropologist. Night after night she works, bending over a skeleton from Limbo. But, there is no longer passion.

Several times Director Cullen asked Cam and Dr. Goodeman to allow another partnership between the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab. Every time they responded with a resolute 'no'. I don't think they even told Dr. Brennan about the offers.

She stopped writing after Booth died. The books never ended; they just simply...stopped.

Now that he's gone, there was no reason to. No reason to weave the tales of a life Dr. Brennan wished she could have. Not anymore, anyways.

Rarely does she talk, and I've not seen her smile. 7 years and she still mourns, though she doesn't want anyone to know.

She continues to project the indifferent and logical Anthropologist. The walls that Booth had taken almost 6 years to steadily chip away at, have been put up again.

Dr. Brennan still looks the same, but some days it seems like she's just a shell of herself.

Her cheeks are gaunt and I'll bet you could count her ribs. Don't get me wrong, she remains beautiful, but Dr. Brennan cares not.

The scars that weave their way across her face have faded to a pale pink, but they are still noticeable.

To Dr. Brennan these seem to be a punishment, a reminder of sorts.

She avoids looking at herself in anything that would show her reflection.

Angela now has a baby, a small boy; he's about a year old.

Michael Seely Hodgins.

The little boy has his mother's eyes, and his father's hair.

Michael comes to the lab with his parents most of the time, them preferring not to let him stay with a nanny.

Cam doesn't mind, in fact she seems to enjoy the life he brings into the Lab.

He's constantly making noises and stumbling around. By now, he can say more things than a 2 year old can. I guess he inherited his father's genius... I can't say I'm not worried.

Michael particularly enjoys watching and following Dr. Brennan. His 'Auntie Bren', as he says.

There is no ease of pain when she holds Michael, rather an increase.

She doesn't see anyone anymore.

After being so close to Booth without having a romantic relationship, and then him being killed, has done worse to her than her family leaving her.

Dr. Brennan didn't believe in a metaphorical heart until she lost it.

**A/N: So... Review? (^_^) **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to the people that reviewed (Anon 123 and thedoctorlovesme). Even though there were only two - *eyes the other 167 readers* (Though I'm really happy that _that _many people read this!) - they were great.**

**Anon 123: If that's the case, then I did my job right ^-^ I love you too! XD**

**thedoctorlovesme: Thanks for the compliment! I try. :)**

**On with the story - this is Angela's PoV...**

Booth's God is cruel. First he took him away from us. From _her_. Now He's taking _her _away from _us_.

She had been getting better! There was colour, there was life! But, it felt like it was only there for a moment. A moment that I wish I could hold onto, stopping time in that instant.

She had been smiling. A smile that hinted of sadness. A smile that never reached the ice blue eyes. A smile, nonetheless.

It wasn't for a while that I noticed the changes, because they weren't really changes.

She had already accepted her fate, without telling us...

Independent was Brennan's middle name.

When she told us she had cancer, _terminal _cancer, it was already too late to anything but hug her and cry.

She didn't cry. No, Bren had used all of her tears up when Booth died.

She wasn't whole without him.

I always said that they would be together in the end.

I didn't mean like this.

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><p>"Angela," Brennan asked, wincing at the way her voice sounded like sandpaper against sandpaper.<p>

"Yes?" the artist fixed her gaze onto her friend lying on the sterile white sheets.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"For-" she broke off, coughing feebly. She waved away the hand Angela offered in help. "For not being a better f-frien...d," she wheezed out.

"I," she took a shuddering breath, "I know I haven't always been able to-to help you when you...need it, but you've always been there...for me."

"No, sweetie, Bren. You've been the best friend a girl could wish for!" Angela objected immediately, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

"I was...an inadequate friend," she furrowed her eyebrows, pulling down the scars along her face.

"Don't you believe that, Bren," Angela responded fiercely through the tears.

"I... I thank you for...for believing that," Brennan managed, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Angela offered her a wavering smile, "Sleep tight, sweetie, I'll see you tomorrow," she promised, getting up and dusting off the seat of her pants.

Brennan nodded, "Tomorrow," she repeated.

Angela walked out of the room with a heavy heart, Brennan's words weighing down on her as though they had a physical force of their own.

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><p>The funeral is a private occasion.<p>

In Brennan's will she asked that it only be immediate family that attended. We were all among the names specified.

Cam. Jack. Parker. Nigel-Murray. Zack. Fischer. Arastoo. Wendell. Clark. Caroline.

I feel numb, but at the same time, it feels like the world around me is too bright, too loud, too real.

The casket is lowered into the ground, roses and daisies adorning the top.

We stand around the hole, looking down at the mahogany coloured oak.

Max picks up some dirt first, carefully sprinkling onto the casket. "A father shouldn't outlive his daughter, especially if that father is me," he mutters, glaring up at the sky. "I'll see you one day again, sweetheart..."

Russ and his daughters and wife follow suit. "Bye Tempe... I'll make sure that nobody ever forgets you. Not ever." His eyes are hooded and fierce, brimming over with loss and pain.

Parker drops the dirt down next. "Daddy loves you. I love you. Everyone here loves you. So why'd you go, too?" he asks brokenly.

Time seems to blur together for an instant, speeding up until I'm the last one to go.

"I...I..." Is all I manage to get out coherently before the lump in my throat thickens and I can't talk at all, overcome by sobs and shaking.

Jack grips my shoulder comfortingly, but I don't feel the touch, not _really_.

He guides me away from the casket that Bren now resides in, back to the group of mourners.

I look over my shoulder, watching the men begin to fill up the hole, Russ and Max working diligently to help them.

A movement behind the workers catches my attention. A wave good-bye.

A man has his arm around the waist of a woman who has one hand clasped over the arm, holding it to her. The free hand is the one waving.

Brennan.

She looks like she did 7 years ago, a fierce joy shining in her eyes. Booth smiles too, nodding his head to me.

They turn and walk away, hand in hand. A breeze picks up and Brennan's skirt catches in the wind, pulling apart. They turn and wave a last time.

Then the couple disappears, moving on.

I offer a small wave of my own, unable to look away.

Parker tugs at my arm.

"Maybe there are happily ever afters," he whispers through the tears.

**/N: A bittersweeting ending, don't you think? But, I kinda had to... I'm not (that) cruel...! So, tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it? Leave a contribution in the little box? **

**Last reminder: I don't own Bones!**


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